Los Santos, what the Hell?
by GalacticTrooper954
Summary: Where to begin? With the crazed Air Port shooter? With the old gangster that lost his family to circumstance? My struggle to find a good church? My bisexual tendencies to getting worse in a Liberal city? Me getting dragged in a f***ing drug circle? Seeing the same damn shooter in a mental ward and having to break his ass out? A lot to go over. I guess I'll start at the beginning.


It starts when I get back from Afghanistan, all I want to do is go to college and potentially get into the film industry and where else to go other than Los Santos. Why, well fucking Vinewood is there, it's like not looking at a trailer park to look for a meth lab. A few months, the Army does all it can to bullshit and fuck me over and fortunately the bastards were too fucking broke to stop loss me. That's one of the unfortunate parts of serving a broke country being a white male, you get fucked because you weren't one of the minorities being fucked in the past and of course I didn't have rich parents, I come from a fucking trailer park myself.

Anyway, to get all that bullshit aside I come to Los Santos to attend LSAFM, Los Santos Academy of Film and Marketing. You know, the perks of serving in the Army and getting shot at by the Taliban pricks is that you get a little something called the GI Bill after you get out. Or you could use it before, but good luck with having time. So I inform my family and I fly out to Los Santos, City of the Saints. Yeah you and I will find out in this little journey that the name itself is full of shit.

I land in the Air Port and get off the plane, see some of the fattest asses that could barely squeeze their way out of the damn plane. I go out into the driveway and then I find a perky looking woman smiling holding a LSAFM sign with pictures of a movie set and a Vinewood sign designed around it. I first go get my one briefcase I brought then I approach the young woman. I approach her and she looks up at me, "Hi, you're Tyler?"

Being the Southern gentleman I was raised to be I reply, "Yes, mam."

"Oh you don't have to call me that, soldier." She gives a mock salute and I do my best not to roll my eyes. She's ignorant, I'll forgive her.

She states, "You don't look like a soldier with all that hair."

"I learned to appreciate it when I got out."

She laughs, "I know right."

No you don't, but I'll let that one slide too. Suddenly I hear an explosion and I jump on the ground and suddenly the damn flashbacks come back. No I'm not as psychotic as a Vietnam, D-Day or Infantry vet but damn it us POGs got our share of fucking mortars and rockets. I keep my head down and roll behind a concrete pillar. I look over to see a burning van and I see balding man in ragged jeans, a camo jacket running across the street with an AK-47.

He was screaming, "Don't piss me off you fucks!"

So here I am at Los Santos and shit is already hitting the fan. The perky young woman was breathing hard, of course panicking as any human being would do. I jump at her and drag her behind the pillar I was hiding in. I was placing her against the pillar to give her maximum cover and I calmly state, "Slow your breathing and relax."

Well she was surprisingly cooperative, but then I see the balding asshole running towards us and he points the weapon at me.

"You afraid to die, you Bieber looking fuck?!"

Well being the sadistic, smartass, assured I was going to Heaven mentality I reply, "What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

"Fuck you!"

"No fuck you!"

He then throws the weapon, "Do you wanna fuck or something?!"

"Let's fucking do it!"

He then looks at me weird, "That's just weird, brother."

"No do you wanna fuck?!"

He goes to pick up the AK looking up at the woman, "And who is this lovely young lady? Is he giving you trouble, sweet heart?"

I give him a side kick to his hip, swinging my strong side leg to throw him off balance. It works as the middle aged bastard doubles over in pain.

"What the fuck?!" I just kick him in the face and he gets dazed. The young lady he mentioned was still in shock from what was happening.

I go to her, "Are you ok, m'am?"

She just screams and runs away and I sigh annoyed, "See what you done, asshole?"

He just groans not knowing what's going on. I walk away towards the carnage. Not too bad, just a blown up car, judging by the surrounding broken glass he probably used a grenade and the shrapnel flew everywhere. I look around annoyed, one I had a psychopathic, balding, potentially child molesting bastard scare off my only way to getting a tour of the college I'm going to and now I have to look for a damn ride. Maybe I'll just wait for the police, no fuck that. I'm not waiting anymore, but look I just found myself a petrified taxi driver.

I go to the driver's door, "You wanna get the fuck out of here?"

He nodded nervously and for some crazy reason I had cash on me. Maybe my paranoia got the best of me for getting cash, but I felt generous enough to hand the man a 100 $ bill.

"Sir, I don't have change on this."

"Then keep it." I get in the back of the car.

"Um, where would you like s-sir?" he stutters.

"Do you know where Los Santos Academy of Film is?"

"Yes sir. I'll get you there right now."

He drives off past the wreckage and hopefully that man I knocked out was incapacitated enough to be caught by authorities. I surely wasn't going to stick around for them dick around with my time.

Welcome to Los Santos, where the fan is life's toilet.

**_Hopefully you people found my vulgar piece of work to be entertaining. I plan to continue this in a series. Thank you for reading._**


End file.
